


Animals

by Eridell



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, And some liquor, Based on a Tumblr Post, F/M, Face Slapping, Femdom, Fingerfucking, M/M, Mild D/s Play, Military Kink, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pegging, Phil Needs a Hug, Power Bottom/Service Top, Restraints, Rimming, Rough Sex, Spanking, Work In Progress, cum swapping, pornstar AU, yes I went there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eridell/pseuds/Eridell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ongoing struggles of Phil Coulson, manager of the most popular (and annoying) group of porn stars in the world.</p><p>Based off a GIF story oneshot by begitalarcos on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Day in the Life

**Author's Note:**

> I actually took the time to research porn sets for a fic. No but seriously what the fuck am I doing with my life.
> 
> Originally a oneshot based off a GIF set from Tumblr ~~that’s probably gonna~~ that spiraled out of control and turn into a series.
> 
> Trust me, the brevity of this chapter will make much more sense if you look at the GIF set first.
> 
> GIF set: http://begitalarcos.tumblr.com/post/65860052255/one-shot-phil-coulson-manager-of-the-most

They seriously didn’t pay him enough to deal with this kind of shit.

Two broken overhead lights, a delay on the status of an incoming actress, four contracts to renew and a prima donna from another studio walking off set was more than enough to have Phil’s blood boiling. But this? This put everything on a completely different level of infuriating.

Whoever thought running a porn studio would be a fun job clearly had never set foot in one.

A swelling throb of a migraine was building behind his left eye by the time Phil finally managed to break away from the production team harping him about the broken lights (he was very aware of the fact that they didn’t work because the fucking bulbs weren’t turning on when they flicked the switch), shouldering his way down a small access hall until he veered off into a side room with a thumb pressed to his temple. He’d said an hour. One hour between sets, and they’d been gone for nearly two. Seriously, did no one bother to read schedules anymore?

The acrid smell of cigarette smoke pervaded his already overloaded senses when the door of the break room swung open in front of him, his nose wrinkling against the faint veil of smoke that hung in the air as he stepped through the door and pushed it shut behind himself with a little more force than would have been deemed absolutely necessary. It took a lot to push Phil to the point where he showed any kind of emotion, with outright anger at the very bottom of the list, but that day seemed to have found the perfect sequence of buttons to push to shove him over the threshold of calm.

The slam of the door drew every eye in the room upward, snapping toward Phil as he stalked forward and came to rest behind the edge of a worn sofa on the other side of the entry to the room. “Okay people, time to stop fucking around and get to work,” he snapped, head offering up another violent throb as he pulled in a half-noseful of the smoke that hung in the air. How many goddamn times had he said no smoking in the-

“Isn’t it… in our job description to fuck around, though?” The question came out soft but edged with barely concealed snark from a man perched on the sofa to Phil’s left, dark eyes peering up from the book in his hand to shoot Phil a pointed look behind wire-framed glasses. Phil didn’t have time to shoot back a retort because one came just as he opened his mouth to speak, a massive frame appearing around the door frame that led into the attached bathroom to cut in with a purposely neutral look on his scruff-laced features.

“Last time I checked,” he quipped, snatching up a dark towel from the counter in the bathroom before entering the room proper to begin toweling off his messy blond locks. Phil answered back with a weary grunt, thumb digging in harder before his hand dropped to jab a finger toward the man on the sofa. “Cut the shit, Bruce,” he snapped back. “Not the day to be stepping on my toes.”

Apparently it was though, because his frustration only served to pull a derisive snort from an amber-eyed man hovering in a far corner of the room with his arms folded across his chest. Tony would be the one to find his obviously sour mood funny enough to test his patience. Phil’s eyebrows drew together at the noise, eyes darting between the occupants of the room as his hands flew up toward the ceiling with an exasperated flip. “Oh, so you’re funny porn stars now?” he questioned, voice sharpened to a razor edge that matched the vicious glare sitting in the deepened frown lines of his face. The room went still at the question spare for Bruce, who shrank down in his seat by a hair as his hands carefully closed his book and lowered it into his lap. “Maybe you should try your hand at stand-up. See how much you’ll get paid an hour doing that.”

Phil was beyond done with everyone in the room, even if only a couple of them deserved an ounce of his ire. Tony, seemingly magnetized to the fact that his producer was in a particularly prickly mood that day, merely shook his head as he took a step forward with a mocking smirk plastered across his face. “Wow, did daddy miss his nap time today?” he asked back, voice dripping with sarcasm that sent another near blinding pulse through Phil’s head. Not today, Stark. If you value your job and your life, you’ll shut up now and-

“Maybe Phil should do the next scene.” The fourth man in the room chirped in before Phil could draw in a breath to spit back a retort to Tony’s mocking, the cherry of the cigarette between his fingers flaring a bright orange as he took a drag before pushing on with a faint smile. “Might loosen him up a little.” Smoke furled up from his lips as he spoke, partially obscuring the leer Phil knew from too much experience was sitting on his face. It was probably for the better. A full view of the look would have more than likely sent Phil over the edge. How many times had he told Barton no smoking in the film studio? They already had enough state reps breathing down their necks; having the fire marshal added into the fray would just end up being a pain in the ass that Phil really didn’t want to deal with.

A broad-shouldered blond cut in with an apologetic glance to his obviously hassled boss, an eyebrow quirked as he turned back to Barton with a nearly incredulous chuckle. “You’re kidding, right?” he asked back, only getting a passive shrug in response as another plume of smoke furled across the room. At least Steve seemed to be on his side, if only a little. To his credit, he was usually the only one when it came to Let’s All Piss Coulson Off days. God bless that Boy Scout grin. 

Slender fingers brushing over his shoulder from seemingly nowhere drew Phil’s attention to his right as a woman eased her way past him into the room, her nails lingering on the seam of his coat shoulder before she sauntered past toward Barton to perch herself on the arm of his chair with a wine glass held slightly aloft in one hand. “Well, orgasms are supposed to be relaxing,” she chimed in, taking a sip as her free hand dragged its way across Barton’s shoulders to come to rest on the far side of his neck. “I think I read that somewhere.”

Phil didn’t have time to fire back that he would have been supremely surprised if she’d read anything that wasn’t a pay raise contract within the last year when a buzzing from his pocket cut him short, his hand briefly disappearing into his coat pocket to tug out his phone and glance at the message that flashed across the screen. Great. Drew was there early and asking to sign her contract before day’s end. Just what Phil needed: another brat on his roster. With a roll of his eyes and a weary grunt he slipped his phone back into his pocket, jerking a thumb over his shoulder with a wide sweep of his gaze across the room. “Alright, enough, get your stuff and let’s get going,” he glowered, turning on his heel as each member of his team rose to their feet and began to collect their bags and belongings from various parts of the room. When he spoke again it was after he’d already stepped into the hall, not bothering to wait for any of the people behind him before nudging the door shut and stomping off down the hall again with his thumb and index finger clamped firmly over the bridge of his nose.

“Christ, it’s like working with animals…”


	2. The Rookie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is finally here! Sorry about the delay. I've got a bunch of other projects going on, and they sort of ate my brain for a second. But now we're moving into this earning its Explicit rating, so yay!

_He definitely had that Bambi look to him that never failed to make Bruce squirm when staring up at him from just above his zipper. But there was something else there… something more than the doe-eyed nervousness he was almost typecast to have. The shaking of his fingers only reinforced the point and Bruce shifted the hand that wasn’t buried in unruly brown locks to help him along, flicking open his fly in a single, memorized movement to pull himself free._

_A mouth found his head within seconds and Bruce couldn’t suppress the hiss that rattled through his teeth, wet heat enveloping him with a heavy rush that sent something electric coursing up his spine. The slender digits that had been fumbling at his slacks moments before wrapped around his base and pumped him in slow strokes, the trembling of his fingers momentarily ceasing when they tightened and he moved down as far as his mouth could manage without obscuring his throat._

They’d psyched him out. Someone in the crew had fed him some bullshit story about what was coming and had put the poor kid so far out of his head he couldn’t see straight. Fucking awesome. Rule two of his studio: never, ever, ever talk to the stars before a scene. That was Phil’s job and no one else’s for this very reason.

It wasn’t like Phil purposely hid details from his stars. That was pointless and completely counter-productive. But when he’d told Parker that he’d be acting in a very submissive role the kid seemed to understand. Now, the way his hands were shaking wasn’t just stage fright. Someone had gotten into his head with details that he didn’t need (more than likely about Bruce himself) and now the poor guy was a mess. Someone was gonna lose their job over this, if Phil had anything to say about it.

_This was when Bruce was supposed to take control. Grip down, shove, buck with your hips and hold. But the idea just… didn’t seem right. Not like this, not when this poor guy was shaking hard enough for even Bruce to feel it. So he did the next best thing: the hand in Peter’s hair viced in hard enough to pull his head up, the thick length between his lips popping free before Bruce leaned in to seal their lips together with a gentle but dominating kiss._

_He reacted like he’d been starving for days and finally finding sustenance: his neck bowed upward as a muffled moan rattled between their open mouths, Bruce’s thick fingers gently moving over the pale skin suddenly bared to him before he was sitting up and pulling the smaller man with him. A nudge and Peter was turned around to bend at the waist, Bruce’s frame hovered over him for another slow, comforting kiss to the neck while he worked Peter’s fly open and hastily guided his pants down and off to toss them aside._

_The rest was mechanical: strong fingers splayed across the curve of his pale backside, pushing and kneading while Bruce lowered his head down to run a flat, lazy line over his exposed hole. The jump and throaty moan he got back was enough to make his cock twitch under him, a hand lowering to wrap around it and stroke slow and hard in time with the gentle prodding of his tongue as he worked it into the impossibly tight entrance under his lips._

Phil looked away from the camera screen sitting in front of him long enough to wave away a coffee, and by the time he looked back everything on the monitor had changed. Someone muttered something about this “not being in the details”, which only raised Phil’s hand again with another passive flutter. Yeah, this wasn’t the fast lead-in they were planning, but… it worked. The subtle movements and gentle words seemed to calm Parker down by a hair, and the new dynamic unfolding in front of the camera seemed far less forced than anything they had previously scripted. It wasn’t what they were expecting, but Phil had been doing this for long enough that he knew what worked and what didn’t. 

This was more than marketable. Rough and heavy was great when it worked, but it was obvious that wasn’t the dynamic that would have made this worth the money it took to film it.

_When a slow ten seconds had lapsed a finger replaced his tongue after a quick jab into Bruce’s mouth, prodding slowly with shallow, graduated thrusts until he was palm deep. Peter was writhing on the spot, arms stretched out to grab the edges of the desk and give himself a little leverage to rock back against the finger now working itself into a firm, measured tempo._

Okay, this definitely wasn’t in the details. Another one from the stage crew (some half-cocked writer who wanted to turn every hard-edged scene into Hostel… fucking weirdo) approached Phil’s chair from the left side with an angry scowl, finger poised to jab it at the director before Phil caught him with a raised finger and scowl of his own. He knew what this guy wanted. He wanted to ream Phil’s ass for taking his scene and letting the people acting it out change it. The dude acted like they were on some big Michael Bay set or something, where the script was everything and one small deviation would ruin an entire plot.

_Another finger pressed in when Peter let out a breathy plea for more, the third following soon after until Bruce’s hand was working him wider at a steady pace with his wrist. The anxiety was all but gone, replaced by a growing need that radiated from every bit of Peter that he could move without taking himself off the desk._

_“You want more?” The question came out smooth and almost sweet, rolling off Bruce’s tongue as his lips parted into a smile at the wanton moan and hasty nod he got in return. He tugged open the desk drawer and fished out a bottle of lube (because every businessman kept one of those handy, after all) with his free hand, flicking open the cap to discreetly run a generous amount along his length before pulling his hand free from Peter to sit him up and turn him around._

No. This was a porn set. These were real people, and if they saw fit to roll with something that wasn’t forced and honestly worked better, then by all means please feel free to piss off this wannabe Eli Roth.

_When he had the smaller man splayed across the desk on his back Bruce leaned in for another kiss, lining up blind before pushing himself in by an inch. The noise the motion tore from Peter was somewhere between a shout and a moan, a slender arm coming to rest across the back of Bruce’s neck to keep their foreheads together as Bruce pulled back before bucking in hard. It took a few graduated thrusts before their skin met, hips grinding down when they finally met flushed skin before tugging back again to set up a hard, shallow pace that had the desk squeaking under them._

_“Tell me what you want.”_

_Peter answered back with a roll of his head and another breathless moan, words coming out sharp and broken by each thrust when he finally found the capacity to speak. “More. Please. Fuck. God, harder, please.”_

But seriously… who the fuck puts a newbie in a D/s-themed scene? Someone in casting was gonna get a very stern talking-to about their choice in bottoms.

_Bruce obliged and sat up, seizing Peter’s knees to widen them until they touched the desk on either side to ramp up into a hard, quick tempo with his hips. Peter’s left arm raised so he could grab the edge of the desk above his head, the other moving inward to pump himself at a hurried pace that matched the beat set up by the man pinning him down. They fell in sync within moments, the air filling with hard breaths and barely contained moans as they both lost themselves in the moment.  
“Such a good boy,” Bruce breathed. “Come on, scream my name. Scream for me, baby.”_

_On cue Peter let out a litany of curse words and the other’s name as he fell over the edge, the hand he was working himself with palming himself at a furious pace as his back arched off the desk and covered his own chest with several strings of come. Bruce followed with a few more vicious snaps of his hips, fingers digging into the pale skin of Peter’s knees as he shoved himself in as deep as he could go and let out a rumble that tapered off into a strangled moan when he rolled his hips to draw it out as long as he could. The second he could move again his head dipped down, tongue lapping at the highest rope of seed on Peter’s chest before he sat up high enough to seal their mouths again, tongues pressed together in an open, obscene show as Peter cleaned himself off Bruce’s tongue with a shaky mewl of contentment._

“Cut.”

One take, just like always. And for the sake of this kid’s nerves, it was probably for the best. The buzzer had just finished rattling through the studio air and the kid was off, Bruce’s eyebrows shooting upward as he watched the lanky frame he’d just been pressed into dart off. The poor thing was gonna be bow-legged for a couple of days, but at least he was moving.

Bruce turned to follow with a slight frown, taking the proffered robe by a woman at the edge of the stage before stepping off down the hall toward the green room. The door at the end of the hall pulled shut just as he moved off the studio floor so he let himself pace slowly, letting his head run in idle circles as he stretched his endorphin-addled muscles. That kind of fear came from something deeper than performance anxiety. He’d only seen it once, with another newbie he’d worked with about two years ago. He was a pretty little thing too, not very far from Parker’s age, and had shaken apart so hard at the end of the scene he canceled his contract. Come to think of it… that was a harder scene like this one was supposed to be. Bruce had carried the guilt of riding that kid as hard as he did long after the newbie left the studio.

The realization sent a rush of relief surging through his system. He’d made the right call, and if Coulson wanted to argue it then bring it on. Bruce wasn’t gonna apologize, and he’d walk off set before agreeing to re-shoot it as something closer to its original concept.

The break room was open to anyone in the studio but Bruce knocked first anyway, cracking the door open to peer inside. An unruly head of hair popped around the corner with raised eyebrows, the look of surprise fading as he stepped around with a nod of his head. “Before you ask, I’m okay,” he began, hands idly untangling a tee shirt in front of him. “I guess I got a little nervous. I… I hope it didn’t mess anything up.”

Bruce chuckled at the hasty response, stepping into the room with a shake of his head before he turned to close the door behind himself. “If anyone messed anything up, it was me,” he admitted. He was gonna get it for going off-script like that. Whatever. Parker had been too anxious for what they wrote. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to put him in that kind of scene for his first time on camera anyway? “You feeling okay?” He looked alright, with all things considered. The shaking had stopped and the relaxed line of his shoulders meant he wasn’t traumatized, at the very least. 

Peter shrugged. “Been worse. It’s gonna suck waking up in the morning.” He paused to chuckle as his hands finally pulled his shirt straight, thin arms briefly disappearing into the torso before they popped out of the arm holes and he shifted to tug it over his head. “I’m guessing you get that a lot, though.”

The burning that crept up the sides of Bruce’s neck had him turning toward his back with a hastier jerk than he’d intended, opening the top to root around for his clothes to give himself a moment to shake off the faint blush that threatened to overtake his cheeks. “I’ve heard it a couple of times, yeah,” he replied back, pulling a long sleeve shirt free and tossing it to the couch before digging deeper for his jeans. For someone that had been on camera for the better part of a decade, one would think he’d be used to people commenting on the size of his parts, and yet it still caught him off guard every single time. “So…” He stopped to clear his throat and straighten back up, the waist of his jeans in hand. “Have you gotten the chance to meet anyone on the roster? Or did they just throw you to the wolves?”

He bent at the waist as he spoke, slipping his legs into his jeans to tug them up without removing his robe. Modesty wasn’t in the job description, but they were off set. He didn’t have to let everything sit on display, so he wasn’t going to.

He reached for his shirt but Peter beat him to it, offering it up before taking a seat in the spot his shirt had just been occupying with another shrug. “I saw a few faces, but they seemed to be adamant about getting me to work so I just kinda went with it.”

Ugh. Vultures. “You’ll get around to meeting them soon enough, I’m sure,” Bruce pressed on, working the belt of his robe loose when his pants were secured. “They’re a pretty lively group, to say the least. You more than likely won’t be on set with them. I’m the only one full time in this department.” He tugged his robe loose and dropped it on top of his bag, ducking into his shirt without a vocal explanation into what his “department” was. It should have been pretty obvious.

“Well… I take that back. You might get thrown in with Barton. He’s the everyman. Coulson calls him in when someone no-shows or gets pulled for another scene. More than likely you’ll only see him with Natasha when he’s specifically written in.” He chuckled quietly as he eased himself into the seat next to Peter, hands folded in his lap. “Hope you’re not weird about kinks. She’s a fan of the riding crop.

“You’ll more than likely get along best with Rogers. He’s seriously the only man I’ve ever met that can screw a woman’s brains out in front of a camera, then go home to a boyfriend and live some kind of a normal life.” It was a quality that had earned him quite a bit of jealousy, but he was either none the wiser or completely indifferent. Good on him, either way.

Peter’s confused frown had Bruce chuckling again. “He’s bisexual. Completely out about what he prefers and happy with someone that doesn’t work in the business. That’s a pretty rare thing.”

When Bruce continued the first part of his commentary came out with a sigh, the ragged edge barely repressed as he lifted his hands to fold them behind his head. “Then there’s Stark. If you’re here, you already know who he is. He doesn’t need this studio to make a living, and yet he sticks around. Sometimes I think-“

“You think what?” A voice came from the door and pulled their gazes around in unison, a lithe, muscular, and completely naked frame pushing the door shut behind it before strutting into the room proper with a lopsided grin. “That I’m God’s gift to women? Because that’s entirely true, and you can ask the blonde limping off to the other green room if you don’t believe me.”

Bruce rolled his eyes, waving a hand to the man who barged into the middle of his thought process. “Peter, this is Tony. Tony, Peter Parker.” Of course Tony was on one of his clothes strikes again. He only did it when he knew Coulson was in a foul mood, and the rant they’d gotten earlier that day already signaled that there was no doubt to be made about the reasoning behind Tony’s current clothing status.

Tony didn’t bother to hide the slow gaze he gave the now perfectly quiet man in the room, a motion that had one of Bruce’s arms sliding from the top of the couch to rest his palm flat to the seat, fingertips inches from Peter’s thigh as he cleared his throat. Tony’s grin widened at the motion, turning his back to the pair before bending to pick up a duffel bag from the floor and throw it into an open chair. “You’re the jailbait, right?” he asked over his shoulder as he unsnapped the top flap of his bag. “Relax. I’m not gonna try and pin you into a corner. Dudes aren’t my thing.”

What a wonderful assumption, Stark. How very stereotypical. Bruce rolled his eyes again at the comments before turning his gaze back to Peter, who looked like he was on the verge of saying something but was purposely keeping his mouth shut. _Good thinking, kid. You’re way smarter than most of the newbies that come through here._

“You two look awful comfortable,” Tony continued after a beat, his hand surfacing from the inside of his bag with a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste before sauntering past the couch toward the inset sink in the far corner of the room. “Please, feel free to continue making out or whatever you were up to before I graced you with my presence. Unless that’s weird, in which case I promise not to peek.”

Peter made a noise somewhere between a snort and a grunt. “You can peek all you want. You won’t be seeing any less than what just went down on Studio Four.”

A dark brow was arched high on his forehead when Tony turned his head to peer over his shoulder. “Which I’m assuming was you?” The sound of rushing water partially obscured his words as he flipped on the tap, but Bruce caught the snarky ripple in his words like the room was still silent. “No offense. You just don’t seem like the top type.”

Peter’s smile widened at the jab. “No no, definitely not a top,” he replied smoothly. “But I wasn’t the one to go down, for once.” His eyes briefly flashed over to Bruce, who couldn’t contain the snort of a laugh that echoed up from his chest as a hand wiped along his jaw. It was good to know Peter was relaxing enough to even joke back at Tony, who most people didn’t even bother to listen to anymore. Maybe the two would balance each other out; reflexive snark versus passive commentary.

Tony looked to them through the reflection in the mirror, toothbrush jammed between his teeth in momentary pause before he shrugged and returned to brushing. When Bruce shifted again he offered a pat to the younger man’s knee before standing, pulling the hem of his shirt down with a nod to the door. “There’s a coffee shop next door that gives us discounts,” he said before turning. Peter hopped up and quickly made his way to Bruce’s flank as he paced toward the door, not bothering to look back when Tony turned his head to shout “Running off before I even shower? You’re gonna miss the best part of the show!”.  
They were halfway out the door when the shout brought them both to a pause, Peter’s eyes flickering to Bruce with enough time to pull a wider smile onto his lips before he ducked around with his fingers clutched to the front of Bruce’s shirt to hold him in place.

This was either gonna be awesome to the tenth power or really, really bad. Bruce didn’t try to move away or out of Peter’s grip, both eyebrows raised as he watched Peter lean back into the room and turn his head toward the naked frame hovering at the sink. “Judging from what I’m seeing right now-“ Peter nodded to Tony, eyes making a visible drop to the exposed region of his crotch. “I think I’ll stick with this one. No offense. You just don’t seem like the I’m-gonna-scream-your-name type.”

Strike that. That was awesome to the fifteenth power.

Bruce and Tony’s reactions couldn’t have been more different for reactions that happened in unison: Tony seemed more shocked at receiving a response at all than what the response itself was, forehead shifting with his arched brows as an incredulous laugh echoed through the room. Bruce remained silent until Peter pulled the door shut behind himself, a bark of a laugh echoing down the hall when they turned to head for the back door that led out of the building. Someone had finally gotten in a semi-decent retort to one of Stark’s ego-powered jabs, and it was someone who had been in the studio for all of three hours at that. “We’re gonna need to work on your delivery,” he commented as they paced down the hall, elbow nudging sideways to bump Peter’s arm. “But I’m glad I’ve finally got someone around to help keep his ego in check.”

Peter shook his head and sidestepped with the jab, answering back with one of his own. “He called me jailbait,” he replied smoothly. “I couldn’t just take that laying down. That right’s reserved for other things.”

Yep. Bruce was officially sold on this kid being the best thing that had happened to the studio in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters three and four are already being written becaus Begita is lightning posting GIF sets over on her Tumblr: http://begitalarcos.tumblr.com
> 
> If you wanna leave commentary on what you see here or read other awesome weird shit follow mine: http://eridell.tumblr.com


	3. No Love For Brat Princes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil's frayed nerves are just about at their limit with the company's reigning king of attention grabbing, but someone might just beat him to the punch... literally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QueSO I _was_ gonna put the Clint/Tasha story up next, but Bae bullied me into throwing Tony into the mix next. Her Pepper's too sexy for me to say no to.  >_>
> 
> Also, this chapter's got a helluva lot more smut in it. Again, totally Bae's fault. Also Begita for putting Secretary Sluts in my head. You two are gonna be the death of me I swear to God.
> 
> Original GIF set: http://begitalarcos.tumblr.com/post/67473911455/phil-breaks-down-the-weeks-shooting-schedule-with

Moments like this were sweet vindication for Tony. He never claimed to be anything less than petty and vindictive, so getting the opportunity to ram himself into the same mouth that so often spewed nothing but double-powered retorts to everything he said, like... ever was something sweet and relieving when it happened. She wasn't happy about it, despite the flawless front of eager bucks of her head that she offered back every time he threw his hips forward to ram himself into the back of her throat again. And when it was all over, they would go right back to clawing at each others' eyes like they always did. But for now, he was satisfied with taking out his frustrations on her willing mouth.

_"Fuuuck yes, bitch, earn that bonus." His voice was already falling into a gravelly snarl, fingers clamped into her hair hard enough to tug a few strands loose from the follicles as he leveraged himself and fucked himself harder into her throat. She answered back with a garbled moan, pale eyes sliding shut when he pushed in to the hilt and rolled his hips forward with a satisfied groan._

God, this was a stupid setup. Wasn't the whole "slutty secretary" thing cliche already? What happened to being "on the cutting edge"? Coulson was losing his grip.

_He ripped back before pulling his free hand back to slap her hard across the face, a strand of saliva glimmering between the head of his cock and her parted lips as he ran his hand briefly over the stripes that marked her pale cheek. She was pliant, leaning hard against the tug of his hand when she tried to dip her head in to take him into her mouth again. Bad idea. His leer widened and he slapped her again before lowering his hand to her throat, clamping down hard enough to pull a strangled noise from her as he viced down over her windpipe. "I didn't tell you to move, slut," he snapped, thrusting forward again before pulling himself free with both hands gripped with enough pressure to keep her head completely still._

Fuck, he was gonna pay for that one later. Her eyes burned with an unmistakable fire that only sparked up when she knew he was using his position on camera to piss her off, but whatever. She was gonna find a reason to chew him out anyway. She always did. Might as well enjoy the ride, right?

_She hated being called a slut, and he knew it. But it never failed to push her onto another level that seemed to be the reason they always got stuck together, so Tony egged it on knowing the repercussions. His hunch was right and when he pushed her back down she swallowed immediately, drawing another sharp growl from him when she threw her head forward against his hand with a hard roll of her tongue along his underside. Several heavy thrusts and he tugged back again, lifting her by the hair to all but throw her around with her bare chest to the desk._

One thing Pepper absolutely hated was being tugged by her hair.

_He didn't give her time to react, leaning in to pin her head down by the back of her neck while the other hand grabbed her left knee to hoist her leg up onto the desk's edge and spread her open. Two fingers hooked the edge of her panties and yanked them unceremoniously aside, quickly pushing into her with a quick twist of his wrist that had her writhing back against his hand with her lower lip pinched between her teeth. He was borderline ruthless in the pace his hand set up, pistoning into her like he was trying to pull her inside out as he leaned in to catch her earlobe between his teeth. "God, look at you," he snarled when he let go, pulling his hand free to lift it and press his soaked fingers past her lips into her mouth._

The grit of her teeth along his knuckles when he pushed his fingers into her mouth made it very clear he was breaching yet another one of her no-no zones. God, she was sexy when she was pissed off.

_"You like this, don't you?" She nodded in response, parting her lips to make a show of running her tongue in between his fingers when he pulled them loose. His eyes only left hers long enough for him to look down as he took aim, spit-slicked length finding no fight when he pushed forward and speared her with a vicious snap of his hips._

_The hand still on the back of her neck squeezed before sliding around to grip her throat and cut off the loud moan that ripped through her, hoisting her upper body up until they were cheek-to-cheek. He continued the punishing pace he'd established with his hand, free hand gripping into the sharp jut of hip bone that sat just under the delicate lace of her garter as he pulled her back into each thrust. He relinquished his grip long enough to offer her ass a heavy slap before returning his hand to her hip, grinning against the slack-jawed litany of moans and broken pleas for him to fuck her harder that bubbled from her open mouth._

She was screaming for more, making a big show out of the fact that she wanted to literally open his throat with her manicured nails. That was just jingles with him. Pepper fucked like a hellcat when she was pissed off.

_The roll of her hips when he bit into her earlobe was their universal signal of "something hurts, switch positions" and Tony obliged after a particularly heavy thrust, keeping himself buried as he let go of her hip to scoop his arm under the knee pinned on the desk to hoist it up and put her on display. Her hand came to rest on the desk top to keep herself balanced, all her weight balanced on the toes of the spike stiletto that wasn't being held aloft in a show of balance and flexibility that even Tony had to applaud. Not every woman on the roster could pull something like that off. It didn't last very long before she was rolling back against him again, a hand clamped into the hair on the back of his head as she briefly wobbled before he caught her and let her leg go so she could rest on both feet again._

_A slick pop as he pulled himself free and Tony's hands returned to her hips, flipping her around on the spot before guiding her up to sit on the edge of the desk. She moved without a struggle and immediately lifted her legs into his arms when perched up, one hand planted on the flat surface under her as the other returned to the back of his head to tug him into a harsh, obscene kiss._

Fuck. There was only one thing that Tony absolutely hated when he was on camera... kissing. And this fucking bitch knew it.

_When her tongue moved out to grapple with his he met her movements with the same ferocity of his hips as he shoved his way back inside her. His teeth clamped down hard into her lip as he bottomed out, tugging with a duck of his head to pull another breathy moan from her as his arms lifted her completely off the desk. Her hand immediately lifted from the back of his head to flatten on the desk like the other, head tilting back with a scream of his name as they picked up a heavy counter-balanced bounce that hit all the right places inside her._

_The end was drawing near and the second her walls started to ripple and clamp around him Tony leaned back, letting her use her weight to guide him into the spot that would have her seeing stars. She took the cue and locked her elbows, the raucous moans that bubbled out of her open mouth ramping into a crescendo that apexed with a final scream that pierced the air and briefly drowned out the rhythmic, rapid-fire slapping of skin meeting skin._

Despite his partial hatred for Pepper outside of work, Tony had to admit she was a beautiful creature when she came hard like this. Mouth open, eyes rolled back, fingers digging into whatever was under them hard enough to white out her already pale knuckles as every muscle in her toned frame seized in unison... mmm. Gorgeous.

 _She was scarcely back on this side of reality when Tony let her hips drop back to the desk and pulled himself free. She shifted to her knees the second he let go and his hand was buried in her hair the second she was back in front of him, the other working himself furiously as he tilted his head back with a strangled, rough groan that echoed up from the pit of his chest. The noise was something distinctly_ him _: snarling and borderline feral when his balls drew up tight and he finally worked himself over the edge, quickly tapering off into a satisfied, low-set groan as he painted her flushed face with several cords of hot, sticky seed. The eye that hadn't been caught by a strand opened as her mouth twisted into a wicked grin, tongue lolling out to run in a circle over his head to lap away at the few drops that still leaked from him with a wanton giggle._

"Cut."

The giggle stopped the second Coulson called for the cameras to stop, teeth flashing before she briefly sank them into the head of his cock. It wasn't even hard enough to be considered a nip, but it was more than enough to get his attention and send him stumbling back with a sharp cry of anger.

"What the fuck, Pepper?"

She leered back in response, sitting back on her haunches to swipe at the white blotch obscuring her tightly closed left eye. "I told you not to pull my hair."

"So you _bit_ me!?"

She merely nodded in response as she rose to her feet, sauntering off the side of the set to take the towel already waiting for her with a grateful not and not so much as cursory look over her shoulder.

Tony could only stare after her, jaw agape as he let out an indignant huff and turned to the director who currently had his hand over his face and oh my fucking _God was he laughing?_ "You're not gonna do anything about that?" he snapped. "What if she broke skin? Bloodborne pathogens much? You're the one always harping about safety standards and yet you're gonna let something like-"

"Tony." Phil finally spoke up when he managed to rein in his laughter, shooting the glowering man still hovering on the stage a look of warning before raising from his seat behind the camera monitors. "Shut up."

Un-fucking-believable. He'd just given Phil his best performance of the year, and he was just gonna sit back and let something like that slide. He turned on his heel with a furious grunt, stalking off down the hall Pepper hadn't wandered off down with an indignant wave of his hand to the stage hand who offered him a robe as he stepped off the stage. "See if I ever do you any fuckin' favors again..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four (and maybe five idfk) will be up in a bit. I'm on fire today, man. Hope you enjoyed the smut!


	4. Raising the Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to break up the constant bickering and camaraderie-in-pissing-off-Coulson his team loves to break out at the worst possible moments, Phil brings in a seasoned veteran from another studio that he may or may not have poached with a double-earnings contract. But is she worth the money he shelled out to get her onboard?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this sat as a draft for like a month before I finally got around to finishing it. I've been in a slump lately, so sorry for the delay in chapters. I swear I'm gonna try to be better about keeping this thing updated on the regular.
> 
> Original GIF set: http://begitalarcos.tumblr.com/post/67473911455/phil-breaks-down-the-weeks-shooting-schedule-with
> 
> As a side note: I play Jess in my head with either Meghan Ory or Mila Kunis as her faceclaim. I leaned toward Mila on this one, but they're pretty interchangable par to whatever tickles your fancy.
> 
> As another side note: the next chapter will be the last one with split focus format. After the next chapter I'll be splitting this fic into two series. Animals will continue with strictly sex scenes, and another will be made for in-studio shenanigans and out of work interactions that'll be updated less sporadically.

Phil was more tense than normal by the time he took his seat behind the monitors. Their new asset was primed for her first time in front of their cameras, and while her resume was solid her temperament was as wild as a summer wind. Money was what kept her docile, and God knew Phil had shelled out enough just to get her there, but until things were rolling and in motion there was no way to judge if his investment had been a wise one. His fingers drummed anxiously across his knee as he settled back with a pronounced frown, nodding to the usually mouthy man who was more than likely still pissed at him and hovering over his shoulder. "Is there any reason you're hovering over me like a vulture?" he asked quietly, pale eyes shifting to the face that was uncomfortably close to his own.

Tony shook his head with a passive shrug. "Wanted to see the new girl at work," he remarked back, glancing to Phil with the smallest trace of a grin on his lips. "At least I have clothes on this time."

Wasn't that just the truth to end all truths.

_Everything about this scene was geared toward women. It was obvious from the first frame, which opened up with a boxer-clad Steve stretched across a window bench with a book propped against his rigid stomach. A few seconds of establishing camera pans later (silhouetted face, pan down to his chest, obviously playing up the Army body) and the book was already being dusted aside by slender fingers, a long curtain of jet black hair briefly obscuring the face of the woman that slid onto his lap with a quiet chuckle. The hand closest to the camera reached up to push her hair back, holding it in place with his fingers as they came to rest on the side of her head to pull her in for a gentle kiss._

_Every movement was languid, a fluidity in her hands as they danced along his chest that contrasted sharply against the hard lines they skated across. When their tongues slid together it lacked any sense of urgency or domination from either party, lips and tongue finding a slow rhythm as Steve let his hands grip first at her waist, then slide up her sides to tug gently at the straps of the thin camisole that covered her upper half._

Rough scenes were easy to direct because they were straightforward: let the actors do the work, keep your angles on the good bits and wait for them to lead. But with slower stuff like this things got more complicated. The cameras had to stay back to avoid interrupting the natural flow while staying in a good angle to catch the light, the set had to be quieter because it was devoid of the almost noise canceling moans and creaking furniture that filled most shoots... setups like this were far more complicated and it was such a detail-oriented task that it often left Phil with a headache when it was over with.

Right as he found his focus Tony chose to chime in, his voice a low, reverent purr at his shoulder. "Holy fuck, would you look at the rack on her," he breathed. "Are they real? Oh God, please tell me they're real."

He earned himself a slap to the side of the head in response, Phil's eyes never leaving the monitor bank in front of him as he straightened a little in his chair. There was no shooing Tony when he got focused like this, but that didn't mean Phil had to sit there and let him run his mouth without some kind of signal that now was definitely _not_ the time. It never did any good to chastise him, but the tiny petty nerve throbbing in the back of Phil's brain mometarily went still so the gesture wasn't completely fruitless.

_Her hips rolled eagerly with gentle guiding of his hands, a coy grin playing across her lips as her hands came to rest splayed across his chest for leverage. Their eyes never broke apart, even when Steve sank his teeth into his lower lip with a pronounced upward grind that lifted them both off the seat and pulled a squeaky moan from her that tapered off into a quiet giggle. His hands were large enough to reach his thumb inward toward her clothed core without removing his fingers from her hip bone, the pad of his thumb scooting down to press firm circles into the hardened pebble of nerves sitting astride his hardening length. Her hips followed the circle, head throwing a chunk of long hair over her shoulder before slumping as she bit into her lip._

_The slow teasing only lasted for a few more moments before they were shifting, a massive arm wrapping around the small of her back as Steve sat up to lay himself over her slender frame and plant another slow kiss on her neck. His thumb kept working her to keep her distracted as he kissed his way down her bare chest, stopping to lap at a hardened nipple and briefly pull it between his lips before continuing further down her stomach, his fingers snagged around her underwear to pull them down her legs as he went._

Phil knew what he was going for. It was his failsafe, a way to make sure that the one he was partnered with got off at least once without putting up anything fake for the cameras. Every time he saw it Phil couldn't suppress the faint smile that crept up onto his face at the realization: even working for a goddamn porn studio couldn't dampen his chivalrous nature. He'd never cop to it, but Phil respected that aspect more than any other trait out of anyone on his entire team.

And again Tony broke his concentration with a snide comment. He drew in a sudden breath before letting it out with an indignant huff, jabbing Phil's shoulder before pointing to the monitors. "He took that from me!" he snapped under his breath. "That little tongue swirl thing when he slides his fingers in - he took that from me!"

Phil only rolled his eyes, unable to even bring himself to dignify Tony's angry rambling with a response.

_Jess was beyond words within seconds of his fingers sliding home. The anxious roll of her hips to meet his gentle thrusting signaled a need for something more, but Steve kept to the slow build even when her fingers buried themselves in the clipped hair on top of his head. She gripped but didn't pull, using her hand to guide his head where she needed it until his tongue found the exact spot just under her clit that sent her back arching up off the padded seat of the window ledge._

_After that moment Jess was putty in his hands, and the small grin that sat on Steve's lips when he finally pulled back screamed that he knew it. He only separated himself long enough to shed his boxers before leaning back over her to catch another kiss, one of her hands snaking inward to stroke lazily at his cock while their tongues rolled across each other between quick seals of their lips. When he finally slid home it was as methodical of a movement as his fingers had been, breaking the kiss but keeping their foreheads together to stare her down with a reverent gaze and a synchronized hitching of breaths as their hips met with a gentle roll._

There was another reason slow scenes bothered Phil, and he would rather open both wrists with a rusty razor than ever admit it out loud. For a split second he was grateful that Tony was still hovered over his shoulders, muttering an absolutely filthy commentary on the scenes he wanted to pull Jess in for after this one wrapped. Listening to Tony rant under his breath about sucking a hickey into her neck while she bounced on his lap was better than stewing on his own frustration.

Working in the porn industry fucked with your head. That was pretty common knowledge. But being on the back of the camera, always watching and never interacting - even in his personal life - was eating away at Phil a lot more than he'd ever let on.

_Steve had a talent for putting a lot of power behind even the smallest of movements. And given that he was definitely above the curve when it came to size, it really didn't take much when he finally put himself into motion. His thrusts were shallow, punctuated with hard snaps when he thrust in that bounced her breasts every time he slid home again. Her head was tilted and her back arched up, a leg sliding off the bench to touch down on the ground as he lifted her hips up and fucked into her at a slow pace that would have been deemed almost cruel. The blissed out grin riding on her lips as her shoulders flattened to the bench seat said otherwise, though. When his thumb resumed its idle circling in the same spot that had made her buck upward before her legs fell open wider by reflex, a string of soft whimpers that were quickly ramping up into louder moans stemming slightly when she turned her head into her bicep with her eyes shut and her jaw slightly agape._

_They were the epitome of what the studio strived for in "female friendly" content: the heat that radiated from their eye contact was hot enough to melt steel, lips hovered within a hair's width from each other and echoing with synchronized breaths. Their pace was beginning to quicken, and the heavy white noise of skin meeting skin was only punctuated by a quick, muffled litany of moans that oured from Jess when their mouths finally crashed together again. She melted within seconds, breaking the kiss to snap her chin upward in time with her back and cry out with a final sharp whimper as she fell over the edge._

_Steve followed a few seconds after, the cords in his jaw tensing as his hips found a brief, erratic pattern before snapping forward a final time. He pulled back with a slow shift, mouthing aimlessly at her neck and breaking the flow of wordless groans when he came to a stop and finished off with just an inch or so left inside her._

For the first time since the cameras started rolling, Tony was silent. When Phil threw a glance his way the reverent, incredulous grin on his parted lips spoke volumes that neither of them had to acknowledge to understand. This one was a keeper, and judging from the devious little glint brewing in Tony's eyes, he was already formulating his argument for first... well, second dibs.

_When their mouths met again Steve had just pulled himself free, letting his spent length come to rest against the inner dip of her thigh when he arched down to catch another greedy kiss. She returned what she was given with earnest, the fingers of her left hand carding slowly through his mussed hair with a faint smile sitting on the corners of her lips after a quick nip to his lower lip. Her right hand briefly disappeared between them, and when it resurfaced a few dots of thick white seed covered with something slick and clear sat on two of her fingertips. Even Steve couldn't help the slightly mindblown twitch of his eyebrows when her digits disappeared between her own lips, tongue making a show of swiping them clean before she arched up for a final kiss as the cameras backed away._

"Cut.

By the time the buzzer sounded Tony was gone, shooting across the stage floor with a stride that screamed intense purpose. Steve didn't seem to be having any of it, a knowing frown already on his brow as he eased Jess to her feet and turned to escort her off the side and down the hall. Phil watched on from behind the bank with a slight chuckle, rising from his chair after the cameras were all dark. "Nice try, Tony," he muttered to himself as he turned on his heel to walk toward the back of the studio. "Looks like you might have competition, for once."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel like being totally awesome go check out Begita's page of win: http://begitalarcos.tumblr.com
> 
> And while you're lurking Tumblr, you should leave some love here too... because, you know, words are hard: http://eridell.tumblr.com


	5. Bottom Bunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson calls in a semi-retired star when Natasha's whipping boy gets cold feet, but it's what happens after the cameras stop rolling that grabs everyone's attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tony's getting a break for this chapter. He's had enough of being backsassed and is now on strike.
> 
> ANYWAY. My apologies for the delay on this chapter. My RP requirements have really stepped up lately, and keeping up with four blogs kinda burned me out. For those of you that are still waiting on chapter two of A Different Kind of Hero (if you've given up, I totally understand because I suck ducks), the second chapter draft is almost ready for proofreading. I'm taking ages on it because this is the fourth version I've written, and I finally got sick of scrapping chapters and just decided to go with a hodgepodge of the previous three mashed together. xD Bear with me - it'll be up soon!
> 
> Also, behold the new format! I couldn't bring myself to cut out the commentary all the way, but there'll be a lot less behind-the-cameras chatter from now on.

"Did I tell you to look at me?"

The question came out laced with a heavy dose of venom, and Bucky's recoil was visible even before a small, pale hand crashed across his face with the open side of her palm. Not like Bucky had much room to move as it was... she'd cinched his tourniquet belt too tight around his neck to permit much more than a slight sideways jump when her hand made bruising contact against his cheek. His smirk only faltered for a moment before it was back in full force, the tip of his tongue darting out to lap at the stinging corner of his mouth as he blinked up at her from his kneeling position at her feet.

Natasha didn't seem amused by the gesture. At all. "I think you need a little reminder of exactly who's in charge here," she drawled, features stone-still as she raised a high heeled boot and perched the toe on the edge of the cot. When he moved to lean toward it he got a sharp tug of the belt-leash in response, her features darkening as she pulled him straight again. "Ask permission first, maggot."

This time there wasn't as much fight in Bucky's tone, but the raspy purr of his voice wasn't quite enough to hide the sardonic curl behind it. "Please, ma'am, may I kiss your boots?"

Her face held tight to its dark glimmer, a look he knew to mean 'you better do more than that' all too well. The release of pressure from the belt around his neck was the go-ahead and he wasted no time, leaning sideways to run his lips over the toe platform of her boot before letting his tongue slide out to swipe a long, lazy path over the pointed toe and up toward the laces. A hand hesitantly raised and, when he received no deterrent, cradled the hollow between the arch and heel to pull it closer as his tongue moved sideways to brush against the bottom of the zipper.

Their eyes remained locked the whole time, electric green against stormy gray that fluttered slightly at the low rumble of approval he got when his lips pressed against the high point of the arch. She let him continue for a half minute or so, alternating between lips and tongue until he'd touched over every part of the platformed toe before his hand and mouth shifted up along the zipper at the inside of her calf.

"See how nice it is when you do what you're told?" she asked, voice already a touch huskier than it had been before but still carrying that same dangerous edge. Bucky didn't acknowledge the question verbally, choosing to instead pinch the zipper pull between his teeth and give it an experimental tug.

Her response was swift: the belt jerked upward and took him with it, throat closing partially around a slight yelp of surprise as his eyes flew shut. "Up," she snapped, and when Bucky obediently rose up on his knees she wasted no time in guiding him to the edge of the cot her boot had just been perched on. He bent down obediently and pressed his chest to the scratchy olive blanket covering the fold-up bed, wrists crossing at the small of his back as he settled his weight between his slightly splayed knees.

They both paused for a moment, Natasha's eyes roving over him as she stepped behind him with the hand that clutched his lead still held aloft over his back. "There's two ways this can go," she remarked. "You're either gonna obey and I'll make sure you get off when I'm finished with you, or you're gonna act like a brat... in which case I'm gonna ride you until you break and put you away wet without bothering to make sure you get yours."

The whimper Bucky let out was almost inaudible, muffled partially by the blanket under his cheek as he watched her over his shoulder. However quiet the noise was she seemed to catch it, tensing the belt lead just enough to make his chin shift with the pressure as she bracketed her free hand around her hip bone with an arched brow. "Is that an affirmative that you're gonna play nice?"

When she got nothing in return the lead tightened a hair more, but nothing fell from Bucky's lips as they parted with a quiet gasp. "Answer me, slut."

His nod was quick, eyes partially unfocused as he let out a hard breath into the bed. "Yes," he answered back, and the jerk from the belt was all he needed to prod him on in the right direction. "I'll be good, ma'am. Promise."

She nodded in response, finally relenting with the belt long enough to let him suck in a hasty breath. He'd been half-expecting her to pull it again but jumped in surprise as she leaned in over his back, ruby lips ghosting over the back of his neck before planting a gentle kiss just behind his ear. "Good boy," she purred, using the moment as a distraction as she lowered her hands and wrapped Bucky's already crossed wrists with the end of the belt. "See? Already in position for me. You know how to behave. You just need a little incentive."

When the tourniquet belt was tied off and his hands were restrained she sat up far enough to plant her nails at his shoulders, raking down the lengths of his arms until her fingers met the rough material of the belt. Her hands moved sideways and wriggled under the edge of his shirt, tracing hard lines down his skin and pulling his hips into a shameless little buck when they snagged the edge of his pants. "You owe me ten for mouthing off earlier," she mused, her words even and calm as she shifted her hands inward along his beltline to begin deftly flicking open his fly.

The comment drew another shiver from his frame before he jumped at the feeling of his belt coming loose, her hands methodical and calm when they pulled back and gripped at the back of his waist line. He was already beginning to visibly melt, another hard exhale dramatized by a slight grunt as he swallowed around his dry tongue and flexed his fingers into loose fists. When she worked his pants and boxers down to the bottom of his ass he shivered again.

"You dirty little whore..."

Her tone was notably lighter, almost amused as she took in the small red circle toward the top of his cleft. He couldn't help the small, satisfied grin that flitted across his face, the twitch of his lips quickly melting around a pronounced gasp as she pressed her thumb to the middle of the divoted base. "Aww, you prepped yourself for me," she cooed, reveling for a moment in the pathetic little whimpers he let out when she shifted the plug with her thumb. When she pushed it inward the whimper spiked into a sharp, breathless moan, his neck flexing as he struggled to pick his head up far enough to look her in the eye.

But that was a bad move. The second his cheek was up off the cot her hand fisted itself into the hair on the side of his head, pushing it back down with enough force to draw a hiss through his clenched teeth. "You don't get to watch," she warned, keeping her grip firm and immobile as she stroked her nails over the curve of his exposed backside. "I want to hear you count off. Lose track and we start over. Understand?"

He nodded as best as he could, and after a quick steadying breath let his eyes fall shut again. "One."

The slap was unforgiving and sent a tendril of fire running up his spine, a mix of the clap of skin and his surprised yelp echoing around the room. "Two." Her fingers zoned in on the same spot, and this time his yelp was a touch louder than the resounding smack. By the time they got to five he could feel how hot his skin was under the force of her slaps, and when she grazed her fingers over it the noise he made was somewhere between a whimper and a barely bitten off moan under the contrast of cold fingers to burning skin.

"Doing so good," she muttered, finally letting go of his hair as she edged herself up onto the cot. He remained still with the shift, eyes opening briefly when she fitted the top of her ankle over his neck with her knee rested on the cot next to his shoulder. She must have noticed his strained peering because her hand returned to his hair, stroking through the hair she'd just pulled when he settled into the bed again. "Easy, easy. You're halfway there." Her other hand dragged her nails down the side of his ass she hadn't marked yet, and the combination of that with the fingers working through his tousled hair seemed to settle him enough to warrant a nod.

"I still wanna hear you."

He made it through the last five without a fight and by the time she made it to ten he was visibly shaking, breaths coming in short puffs as his hips canted into the gentle rub of her fingers over the cherry-red stripes over his ass. "Mm, you're so pretty like this," she purred, tongue briefly darting out to wet her lips as she lifted her leg away from his neck.

"Thank you, ma'am," he breathed in return, fingers slowly tensing and untensing against his back as he squirmed and let his knees shift wider. It was a bid for attention and she knew it, so instead of answering it she moved off the cot him and slowly work open the fly of her loose camo pants.

When her zipper loosened Bucky let out an audible gasp, teeth pinching at his lower lip to stymie the noise as he watched her strip her pants off and kick them under the cot. Her legs were covered in loose-woven fishnets that stopped at her mid-thigh, held up by a thin garter belt that sat low on her hips.

But it wasn't her legs he was staring at. Over the garter was a plain black leather harness, and positioned over her crotch was a wide strap of leather that held a thick, pale dildo that matched the eggshell shade of her skin perfectly. One of her hands wrapped around the base and readjusted the harness with a slight twitch, her eyes falling to his slightly agape stare with a quiet chuckle. "You like this?" All she got back was a hasty nod and a hard swallow, his eyes never once leaving the hand she had clutched around her length as she worked her fingers over it in a slow twist. "Tell me what you want."

Bucky didn't hesitate to reply. "I wanna suck you, ma'am," he rasped, tongue darting out to run quickly over his lips as his hips rolled against the cold air. "Please. Wanna taste you."

His mouth remained open after he finished, jaw slack like he hoped she'd plunge forward and invade his mouth right there on the spot. But she didn't move immediately, only chortling again before crawling up to kneel in front of him with her hand still wrapped around the base. "Better make it good, then. I'm still not inclined to give you much of anything after you mouthed off earlier."

He seemed eager to please, still pliant and wriggling from moments before as she scooted forward toward him and settled on her haunches. When Bucky lifted up to allow her room his weight moved to rest on his hips, pressing them harder against the foot of the cot so he could flick his tongue out and lick a broad stripe from the edges of her fingers all the way to the tip. She let go when his lips wrapped around the head, cheeks hollowing with a hard suck as she let her fingers curl into the blanket under them and brace her on either side.

Their eyes were locked again, his lips stretched wide around her girth as he pushed himself further into his own mouth with a faint, muffled moan. Before long he had most of her inside his mouth, and on the upswing he pulled in a breath through his nose before shifting his jaw as wide as it would go and burying her in his throat until his nose was pressed to the leather of her harness.

"Ahh _fuck_ , you're good at this," she breathed, still transfixed on the sight below her as her free hand found the hair on the top of his head to pin him in place with a slow upward roll of her hips. He reacted immediately, another stifled noise echoing in his occupied throat as his hips reflected the movement of hers beneath him. After a few seconds she hauled him back and he sucked in a breath the moment his mouth was open, a faint line of saliva running from her head to his lower lip before he swiped his tongue over his lip again and tilted his head to nuzzle the inside of her forearm. "Wouldn't have pinned you for an eager little cocksucker." She took the moment to shoot him a faint leer, grip tightening before she let go of his hair to reach between them and press a button on the inside edge of the harness.

A barely audible buzz emanated from the harness and she jumped as the inner vibrator kicked to life, head rolling backward as she let out a sharp yip toward the ceiling. Bucky couldn't help but grin up at her, waiting with his tongue idly pressing into the underside of her toy for her to look back down and give him permission to move again. 'Permission' came in the form of a hard upward thrust, both hands burying themselves into his hair to force his mouth further down her length again.

Bucky went loose in her grip and widened his jaw again, taking as much as she gave with a muffled whimper when she filled his throat again and held him in place. "Atta boy, take that cock. Ooh, you look so good like this." He could only answer back with a brief upward glance before she pulled back enough to throw herself into his throat again, the movement drawing another sharp noise from her throat when the pill planted in her harness ground up against the sensitive spot between her clit and her entrance.

She set up a shallow, hard pace that Bucky took eagerly, eyes sliding shut again as he let his neck go slack in her grip while she pounded herself up into his mouth. Before long she was moaning with every thrust, eyes pinched shut as she aimed her hips higher to counter-weight the angle of his throat against her harness. It seemed to work because within seconds the muscles of her thighs were trembling, lips parted against a litany of swears and heavy breaths as she rode his mouth with increasing ferocity.

He never so much as spluttered, cheeks tinting a pale pink with effort as he contained his breath until he absolutely couldn't anymore. When his lungs were screaming fit to burst he tugged against her grip and she immediately obliged, pulling him up off her toy and allowing him a deep, greedy breath. They were both flushed, pupils blown wide with need as their chests heaved in unison for a few quiet moments before he broke the silence with a hasty, breathless plea.

"Please, ma'am. Want you in me. Please. Can't take it. Please fuck me."

That was what she'd been waiting on. She tugged him up by the top of his head into a filthy kiss, less lips and more openly grappling tongues as he hastily kicked himself out of his pants. When they broke apart her face lit up with a devious leer, fingers tightening in his hair hard enough to draw an almost pained whimper from his parted lips.

"I didn't tell you to strip, slut."

_Shit._

But the damange had been done. Her fingers cracked across his face before he had time to brace himself, teeth gritting together against the sharp sting that lit up his face and before he knew it she was pulling him up onto the bed. "Turn around," she growled. "I'll take it out on your ass."

Bucky obeyed immediately, fumbling up over the bottom of the cot and whirling around before stretching out on his stomach when she lifted up on her knees to give him room. His ass was still striped with bright red marks, and she wasted no time in cross-marking them with another slap as her other hand disappeared briefly under the pillow behind her. His hips spiked into the contact before rutting down into the blanket, his sharp cry tapering off into a drawn out whimper as the scratchy surface of the blanket grazed over the underside of his length with desperately needed contact. "You come before I tell you to and I'll tie you down and call in the rest of your infantry," she warned, hand resurfacing with a small bottle of clear lube. She uncapped the top and squeezed a healthy amount onto her toy with one hand, the other gripping the base of his plug to gingerly wriggle it free and pull it from him.

The noise that left him was nothing short of desperate, muffled by the blanket until his head shot up and he let out a high-pitched moan as two of her fingers dipped into his stretched hole. He'd made sure to use plenty of lube beforehand, but she slicked her length with a few thorough strokes just to be safe before shifting to kneel over the backs of his thighs. Her hand continued to work into him, a third finger digging in when his hips rolled up to meet her hand. "Please," he begged, head tilted against the blanket as far as he could get it to crane around. "Please, I need it. S'not eno- ugh, _fuckyespleaseridemema'amplease_."

__She made little to-do about lining up when she finally withdrew her fingers, both hands clutching at the top of his ass to hold his cheeks open as she pressed the blunt tip of her cock against him and shoved into him down to the hilt. They howled in unison, Bucky's hips rolling up as much as he could in a desperate bid to fit her inside him as deep as she could go._ _

__There was no slow build by the time she reached her hilt. Within moments the sound of skin slapping against leather filled the room, mixing with the squeak of the cot and their breathless noises as she spiked herself down into him with ruthless force. It didn't take her long to hit her climax, throwing her hips forward as hard as she could as she let out a ragged scream and rolled down against his ass to ride out the whiteout that had her fingernails biting down into him even harder._ _

__Bucky couldn't hold himself still, straining against the weight of her legs as he dipped his lower back and offered up more of his ass to her hands. After several seconds she switched the vibrator off and unclamped one of her hands, striking down over his right cheek again with bruising force before slowly pulling herself out to the tip. "God, you've got a tight little ass," she growled, watching as she almost completely resurfaced before quickly spiking in again with a hard snap that had Bucky howling against the blanket._ _

__"Please, ma'am," he panted, voice rough and cracked against the sandpaper in his mouth. "I can take it. Ride me like a slu-"_ _

__He ddn't have time to finish his thought before she picked up the same vicious tempo as before, tearing a loud moan from him every time she bottomed out. ""Can't ride you like a slut if you already are one," she snapped, teeth gritted together as she raised her hand and struck her fingers across his ass again. The combination of sharp not-quite-pain and the slick, unforgiving pace of her hips had his own arching up again, lower back screaming in protest almost as loud as the shameless noises that bubbled from him like an open tap. "Talk to me, maggot. Tell me how much you like this."_ _

__"I love it," he whined back between breaths, eyes scrunched shut as he willed himself away from the sharp cliff he didn't have permission to fall over just yet. "Love your cock. Want you to- _fuckYESthere_ \- fuck me 'til I break."_ _

__She found his most sensitive spot with a particularly hard dig of her hips and immediately re-angled to find it again, aiming for it every time she threw herself forward until she was brushing against it with every rut. Bucky was quickly coming undone, concise pleas fading into a mush of unintelligible words that he poured into the blanket under his cheek. Her eyes were trained on his face, the tension in his shoulders and bound hands until his knuckles whited around the tightness of his fists. "Come for me, slut," she snapped, punctuating the command with a full-arm slap to his ass._ _

__Bucky obeyed on the spot, hips jittering against the bed as his voice sharpened in volume and pitch with a sharp, loud cry. He came hard enough to seize up every muscle in his body, and after several long second he finally, _finally_ slumped down with one last breathless whimper._ _

__Natasha stopped the second he did, and when his spine straightened out she was hovered over it with her lips pressed to the back of his belted neck. "So good," she breathed, hands roving gingerly over the red-hot skin of his ass and up his back to pull the knot that held his wrists together. "You did so good. So proud of you." Bucky answered back with a nod, eyes still closed but no longer scrunched as he slumped into her touch and let himself go lax under her constant touch and affection._ _

__\--_ _

__"Cut."_ _

__As soon as the buzzer in the sound stage rang out there were three people on the set, Natasha still perched across his thighs and muttering a litany of praise to his neck while a broad-shouldered blond quickly stepped up to kneel at the side of the cot. He took one wrist while Natasha took the other, gently guiding his arms back to his sides before she sat up and let them have some room._ _

__Bucky's head lifted far enough for her to remove the belt from his neck and Steve's hands immediately caressed the faint red lines under where it had sat, lips crashing against his to drown out the moan of approval that echoed up from Bucky's throat._ _

__"Gonna pull out now, okay?" Natasha's voice was hushed, almost reverent as she laid a hand flat to the middle of Bucky's back. He nodded against the face still pressed close to his own, wincing when she gingerly eased herself free and moved to kneel on the other side of the cot. But Bucky could only seem to focus on the man in front of him, eyes finally opening to peer up at him blearily with a blissed out grin. "How was that?"_ _

__It took a moment for Steve to reply but when he did it was with a grin of his own, his free hand moving up and over Bucky's back to brush the hand Natasha had to his skin and briefly wrap their fingers together. It was a silent thank-you and a gesture Natasha took without comment, only meeting Steve's eyes long enough to nod before stepping away to the stage hand waiting to help her unhook her harness and wrap her in a robe._ _

__"Probably the most incredible thing I've ever seen in my life," Steve muttered back, tilting his head so it was even with Bucky's as he nuzzled in closer. "You did good. Really good."_ _

__Bucky's grin could have put the spotlight on the Empire State Building to shame. "M'kinda glad I got the call now," he pondered, moving his arms up to brace himself on the edge of the cot and gently lift himself up. Steve sat up immediately and guided him into a sitting position, shifting to a half-hunch before leaning in for a firm but tender kiss with his hands clutched around the points of Bucky's jaw. There was no hastiness or hunger in the embrace, nothing but a slow need for just a little contact as their mouths molded together with a smile sitting on each of their faces._ _

__Steve was the one to break for air, keeping their foreheads together as his smile widened and his thumbs moved to circle the light stubble on Bucky's cheeks. "So... can I tell Coulson you're back for good?"_ _

__Bucky let out a short chuckle, leaning into Steve's left palm as he nodded and nuzzled into the touch. "Can't really throw me a setup like that and expect me not to wanna come back for more..." He paused, tired eyes lighting up with something faint but devious as he turned his head further and grazed his teeth playfully over the heel of Steve's thumb. "As long as they toss me something with you soon."_ _

__Steve's face lit up with the same dark glint at the suggestion. "I think that could be arranged."_ _

__From behind the monitors a sullen groan echoed out, the man in the director's chair grinning smugly at the screen bank as he held out a hand to the tall, dark-skinned man standing behind him. "Told you it'd work," he droned, nonchalant despite the nearly gleeful edge of his grin as the man behind him slapped a fifty-dollar bill into his waiting palm._ _

__"Doesn't mean I'm anymore likely to admit you were right out loud," he grumbled back. "You can't expect fuck buddies to make your bonuses for you every time, Coulson."_ _

__Phil merely shook his head. "I don't need to. And if you think those two are just fuck buddies, you've been spending way too much time in your office and not enough getting to know your employees."_ _

__Yep. Being the man on the ground definitely had its perks._ _


End file.
